


What Started As One Prank

by Mars_McKie



Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: Humour, Kid Fic, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Tickling, Water Fight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-02
Updated: 2017-08-11
Packaged: 2018-12-10 06:02:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11685564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mars_McKie/pseuds/Mars_McKie
Summary: In between missions the Tracy brothers found their own ways of relaxing. When he wasn't swimming, Gordon was often thinking up new pranks to pull on his brothers. But then, Scott remembered, he probably had himself to blame for that.





	1. April Fools

**Author's Note:**

> The Tracy brothers as young boys seem so fluffy and cute!
> 
> It doesn't matter too much for the context of the story, but I imagined this as being TOS rather than TAG (the only thing I think it really affects is their hair colour and the lack of Kayo).
> 
> Ages of the boys are: Scott- 16/17, John- 13, Virgil- 11, Gordon- 9, Alan- 6

In between the calls to rescue missions the boys found their own ways to blow off steam on Tracy Island- Virgil painted or played piano, Scott went on runs or cooked, Alan played video games and Gordon was either swimming or playing pranks on the others. It kept him and his brothers on their toes and could be irksome at times, but then, Scott remembered with a grimace, he had been the one to start it.

*

Sixteen year old Scott Tracy had slipped downstairs in their suburban home early that morning on April 1st, keen to put his plan in motion before anyone else should wake up. Padding silently around the kitchen, he got everything set up and slipped quietly back upstairs to his room, leaving a packet of donuts behind on the counter.

Later that morning when the rest of the family were up, Scott was sat at the breakfast bar when Jeff strolled in, ruffled Gordon’s hair as he ate his cereal, kissed Lucille on the cheek while she was preparing the sausages and bacon, and grabbed one of the donuts from the pack. Gordon sneaked a glance at Mum before he dived into the pack as well, but both of them had only taken one bite before they were retching and spitting it out again, their mouths full of ketchup.

“Ha! April Fools Dad!” Scott chortled.

“Scott Tracy!” Jeff glared at him, but it was all in good jest. He knew this was only retaliation for last year when he had turned off the hot water while Scott had been in the shower.

“Serves you both right for spoiling your breakfast,” Lucille smiled as she divided the sausages, bacon and eggs out onto plates and pushed them towards Scott and Jeff.

“You got me good that time Scooter, I shall have to find some way to come back from this,” Jeff winked, starting on his bacon.

“What’s April Fools?” Gordon asked wide eyed, his mouth now clear of ketchup.

“It’s where people pull pranks on each other for a day,” Scott explained.

“Don’t tell him that- the last thing we need is another prankster in the family!” Jeff said lightly.

They had left it there- Gordon had always been a devilish child so Jeff was probably right. Unknown to them, later that day Gordon went on the internet at school to look up what other pranks there were. His eyes lit up as he realised that many of these were easy and he had many of the things to make them work already at home.

*

Several days later, the four younger Tracy brothers sneaked up quietly to the bedroom door of their eldest brother, let themselves in and started banging pots and pans while shouting “Happy Birthday!”, giving Scott a rude awakening before they all piled on top of him in his bed. A tradition among the brothers on one of their birthdays.

“Get off!” Scott groaned, struggling to wriggle free from the bottom of the Tracy sandwich. He might be the boss of his brothers but when they all ganged up on him he didn’t stand a chance.

“Happy Birthday Scottie!” the youngest chimed again as he hugged Scott’s neck.

“Thank you Alan,” Scott said, lifting the kid off of his chest. A difficult feat while his waist and legs were still being pinned by Virgil, Gordon and the surly teenager John.

Their mother looked around the door at them. “Boys, I want my pans back please. Happy birthday Scott dear; your present from your father and I is in the driveway, I’m sorry if it’s not much of a surprise what you’re getting.” It was indeed no secret that Scott had picked out a new car after passing his Drivers Ed last year, though one of the agreements with mum and dad of Scott being able to drive his own car was that he was to be designated driver for Virgil and John to and from school. A small price to pay. “And if you all come down when I’m finished I’ve got a special birthday breakfast for you.”

“Thanks mum!” “Cheers mum!” “You’re the greatest!”

“Scottie, look! This is what I made for you-” Alan thrust a piece of paper in Scott’s face. It was a drawing of the five brothers in crayon with a glittery ’Happy 17th Birthday’ above them that Alan had obviously made himself while at school. The coloured stickmen were about as good as you could expect from a 6 year old.

“What’s up with my huge lips?” John remarked.

“Why am I orange?” said Virgil.

“I think it looks just like you,” Gordon grinned, dodging as Virgil went to box his ears.

“Thank you Alan, that will have pride of place on my wall,” Scott smiled, ruffling his blonde hair and Alan beamed brightly. John had got him some textbooks and a car freshener in what seemed to be an attempt to be whimsical, and Virgil had got him some new CDs and DVDs (including for some reason Top Gun).

“And that leaves Gordon...” Scott said, turning to his brother who was nearly bouncing in anticipation to give him his present. It turned out it was an Airfix plane model. “Thank you Gordon, that’s very thoughtful of you.” Not least because it probably cost him a fair bit of his pocket money, unless he’d asked mum and dad for help.

“I got you a card too,” Gordon said, handing it over, still beaming from ear to ear. Scott understood why as he gave a strangled yell when he pulled the card from the envelope and a pile of glitter fell into his lap and bed.

“Gordon!”

“April Fools!” Gordon chirped. “I got it right, didn’t I Scottie?”

Virgil and John were laughing at the expression on Scott’s face and Virgil kindly explained, “You’re only supposed to do April Fools on April the first, Gordy!”

“Oh,” Gordon’s eyes went wide.

“It’s OK, Gordon,” Scott smiled, but he closed his eyes and felt a vein throbbing in his temple. He had only brought this on himself.

*

Scott had opened a can of worms by drawing Gordon’s attention to pranks, as the next few days were to prove. Sure, the cling film over the toilet bowl had been obvious to spot and removed with only a roll of the eyes, and the fake poo on Scott’s bedroom floor might have had more effect if they’d actually owned a pet, but Scott nearly gagged when he tried to brush his teeth with mayonnaise, and the next morning he was late for college as he’d lost his car keys, only to find them in the fridge suspended in a block of jelly.

“It’s like he’s only doing it to try to impress you,” Virgil suggested as they drove home that afternoon (John stayed at school most days for after school extra credit clubs). For only an 11 year old, Virgil could be quite perceptive. Then again he’d probably been thinking about it all day as he and John had also been late due to waiting for Scott to de-jellify his keys. “It seems like everything he’s done has been directed towards you.”

“Humph,” was Scott’s reply to that. “He doesn’t know when to stop.”

“Neither do you sometimes,” Virgil muttered under his breath. Luckily Scott didn’t hear him but kept focused on the road ahead. They were pulling into the driveway before he spoke again.

“I think I know what we have to do to get him to stop,” Scott said. “Can I rely on you to provide the muscle?”

Virgil grinned wickedly, knowing what Scott had planned. “After the bollocking from my teacher this morning? Sure thing.” Scott told him off for his bad language and they made their way inside.

Jeff wasn’t home from work yet but Lucille was sat out on the patio with a book after a long day. After they both kissed her on the cheek and learned that Alan and Gordon were both home from school they ran upstairs to drop their stuff before converging outside Gordon’s bedroom. They heard the steady beat of music and Scott knocked loudly before entering. Gordon had been chilling out on his bed reading a comic but he looked up in alarm (and perhaps a little sheepish, Scott thought) as his two older brothers filed in.

Scott folded his arms. Between them the Tracy brothers could be more effective than the Gestapo in their torture methods. “Stick ‘em up!” He declared.

Gordon knew what was coming and made a bolt for the door, only to be tackled back to the bed by Virgil. A brief struggle later and Gordon’s wrists were pinned above his head. Scott advanced menacingly, unfolding his arms and wriggling his fingers.

“No, no, please Scottie, no! Virge!” Gordon pleaded, but it was no good and soon he was in hysterics as Scott plunged his fingers into his armpits, his t-shirt offering no protection.

“You made John and Virgil and I late for school today,” Scott said over the screams.

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to!” Gordon yelled between laughs, thrashing around on the bed, his legs kicking wildly but failing to making any contact with his captors.

“And you put mayo in the toothpaste, and cling film over the toilet, and fake poo on my carpet, didn’t you?” Scott reeled off, with each one poking his fingers between ribs and down his sides.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

“Whatever are we doing to do with you?” His fingers had reached Gordon’s stomach and his words became incoherent as tears streamed down his face.

“Nothing! Please! Stop!”

Unseen by them all, Alan had poked his head around the door at the noise and had instantly withdrew it and ran back to his room for fear that they should turn on him next.

“Do you promise not to do it again?”

“Yes, I swear!”

Scott looked down at Gordon’s cute laughing face. He knew from experience this promise wouldn’t really last, but it gave the immediate results he wanted. So after a round of raspberries to his bare belly (each one gaining a shriek of laughter from Gordon) he said to Virgil “He’s learned his lesson. Let him go now.”

Virgil smirked and let go of Gordon’s wrists. He instantly curled up into a protective ball, still giggling as ticklish spasms ran over his body.

“Just remember; so long as you’re little we will always have a way to make you do what we tell you to,” Scott taunted, and it was true. Since he’d turned 11 Virgil had been too big to pin down and John would likely thump him if he tried, but sometimes, Scott knew, this was the only way to get Alan and Gordon to behave themselves.

*

Gordon mostly kept to his promise over the next week, the threat of more retribution hanging in his ears, but pulling those pranks had given him a certain joy. Sure, it had started as trying to show off to Scott, but with the success of the mayo toothpaste and setting the keys in jelly he’d found a thrill in the planning, the sneaking around and the payoff at the end. He remembered walks to the park where he had ran on ahead of the others to hide behind bushes, then when they came looking for him he’d jump out and scare them, and it had given him the same delight as then.

He had to be careful if he was to proceed. His promise meant Scott was out of bounds, John would probably take it the wrong way and Alan was a bit too young for it to be fair. That left Virgil. Gordon pulled a face as he remembered how his next eldest brother had held his wrists while Scott had tickled the sense out of him. That was settled- Virgil it would be.

He didn’t quite know what he was going to do, but an opportunity too perfect to miss presented itself the next weekend...


	2. Prank Wars

Jeff and Lucille had gone out for the day which meant that Scott was in charge. The brothers mostly went about their business of homework, reading and in Virgil’s case practising on the piano in the living room. The nature of the music soothed his mind and he daydreamed as he played, the notes familiar enough to his fingers to drift on without him. Some time later he closed the lid and flopped down contently on the sofa, quickly falling to sleep.

When he went downstairs to get a drink of water, this was how Gordon found him.

The opportunity was too perfect to pass up and as he knew that Virgil was capable of sleeping through the apocalypse the idea that leapt ready formed into his mind would be easily achievable.

Gordon grabbed a few of Alan’s felt tips that had been left on the table, crept silently across the room and set himself gently on the floor at Virgil’s side. Keeping a watchful eye on the steady rise and fall of his chest, Gordon set to work with delicate strokes. His heart leapt into his throat as halfway through Virgil shifted in his sleep, but within moments he was deep under again. Finally, a few minutes later, he was finished. If only he had a camera. With as much grace as he could muster, he stood up, returned the felt tips to the table and slid from the room.

Thirty minutes later, Virgil was awoken by the smell of Scott cooking in the kitchen. He stretched out and yawned widely, forcing himself to stand up and move through to see what was going on. Scott was preparing cheese on toast for Alan who was sat at the counter, chatting away merrily, when Virgil walked in, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“Is that for all of us or do we have to make our own?” he yawned widely.

Scott straightened up to reply but the words died in his throat, his face twisted and he snorted loudly. Alan took one look at Virgil and laughed so much that he fell off his chair.

“What?”

“It’s a masterpiece!” Scott declared. “You should hand yourself in as your next art project!”

Alan tried to resurface from behind the counter but another look at Virgil and he was down again.

“ _What_?” Virgil repeated. John walked into the kitchen and his face adopted a similar smirk to Scott’s.

“Very creative Virgil! Did you do that, Alan?”

Alan shook his head in earnest. Virgil spun on the spot, looking at them until Scott could finally pull a straight enough face together to say, “Have you looked in the mirror recently, Virge?”

Virgil strode over to a small mirror on the wall and his jaw dropped. Someone (and he had a sneaking suspicion who) had been drawing on his face while he’d been sleeping. He had acquired a red lightning bolt scar and glasses, black kitten whiskers and nose, and a green beard and moustache.

“Gordon!” Virgil yelled and John and Alan bent double with laughter. Scott managed to put a hand on his shoulder to stop him storming out of the room.

“It’s OK Virgil, he got you good is all,” Scott smiled.

“He’d better hope this washes off.”

“You just need a way to get back at him.”

“I want no part of this!” John said as he made a swift exit from the room. Virgil’s expression softened.

“I’m not good with pranks though. I don’t know any good pranks like you and Gordon do,” Virgil admitted.

 _Virgil can be so innocent,_ Scott thought with a smile. “It’s fine. Listen to me, here’s what you should do...”

*

The felt tip had been washed away long before Jeff and Lucille got home so neither of them were any the wiser to the storm that was brewing between their sons. The rest of the weekend passed without incident and it was Monday afternoon before Virgil and Scott sprang into action.

While Mum was still at work and Dad had taken Gordon to his swimming lessons, Scott stood guard outside Gordon’s bedroom while Virgil set to work inside. There was no real need to guard against John or Alan, but Scott knew Virgil would need as much time as he could be given. Eventually, Virgil emerged from the room with several empty pitchers which they returned downstairs before adopting a casual air in the kitchen, Scott preparing dinner again.

Dad soon returned with Gordon who was looking pleased with himself, having picked up the butterfly stroke quicker than anybody else in his class. He ran upstairs to drop his things and Virgil couldn’t resist following him to see his reaction.

Gordon flew into his room but came to a quick stop, and not an inch too soon. There was a metre of space around his door but beyond that every empty space on his floor, shelves, even on top of his fish tank had been covered by plastic cups. He gave a low whistle at the sight. The project must have exhausted mum’s entire supply of birthday party cups.

“Like it?”

Gordon turned and saw Virgil leaning against the door frame, smiling wickedly.

“Impressive,” Gordon nodded.

“I just want to make sure that our little fish is surrounded by water,” Virgil said. Gordon didn’t understand what he meant until on closer inspection he realised that each cup had about an inch of water in it. “Have fun cleaning up Squid!”

With that he left and Gordon realised he was right. He pondered his options- he could just go straight to dad and show him what Virgil had done, but that seemed like it would break some kind of unspoken rule among the brothers about no dibbing, plus Virgil would then be just as likely to drop Gordon in it for his work with the felt tips. It had been a while since he’d had his backside tanned by dad and he wanted to keep it that way, so that option was out. He thought perhaps if he could clear a path to the window he could chuck the water out into the garden, but his room was right above the kitchen so anybody could see him doing that, not to mention the puddle it would cause. His most viable option was the bathroom.

With a bit of careful balancing he could manage eight cups (four between his small fingers and thumbs) in one go. He made about eight trips in this fashion before he heard dad coming up the stairs and head to his room. Gordon didn’t dare make any trips in case he suddenly came out, which left him with only one option. He would have to drink the rest. The trips back and forth had made a sizeable dent but he still gave a small groan as he sat down on the carpet and began downing the drinks one by one.

After two minutes of this the door to his room opened and Alan stuck his head in. “Hey Gord, Scott says food’s nearly-” He stopped in his tracks when he saw the cups and Gordon waved him in. Alan shut the door behind him. “Wow-”

“Help me drink these, I need to get rid of them before dad sees!” Gordon hissed. Alan nodded and continued with the ones on the floor and Gordon could finally move on to the ones on his desk.

“Did Virgil do this?” Alan asked between cups.

“Yeah,” Gordon replied. “He really stepped things up a notch though.”

“Yeah, I heard him and Scott talking about it the other day-”

“Wait. You heard them talking about it and you didn’t tell me?” Alan gave a nervous squeak under Gordon’s gaze and hastily gulped down another cup full, but more than that he’d given Gordon something else to think about. So Scott had been in on this too? That hardly seemed fair given how Gordon had promised not to pull any more pranks on him. As far as he was concerned this meant Scott was fair game again.

With a slam they heard Jeff leave his room and return downstairs. Moving swiftly to the door Gordon was willing to hazard a guess that he wouldn’t be returning soon so he and Alan started again taking the cups to the bathroom. Finally, tipping the last stray cup into Nemo and Marvin’s tank, he was left with a large stack of empty plastic cups which he hid under his bed.

Several times over dinner, Virgil’s eyes strayed over to where Gordon was sat and several times over dinner Gordon had to excuse himself to the toilet. When his mum asked him if he was alright he breezily waved it aside saying he had swallowed a lot of water while he had been in the pool, earning a smug smile from Virgil and Scott.

Gordon knew they had set the bar high and it was his turn to also up his game.

*

“Oh please Allie!”

“You’ll get us both into trouble!”

“I only need you to stand watch.”

“Why me?”

“Because Scott and Virgil are ganging up on me and you’re the only one I’ve got.”

“Goooord...”

“Look, if we get caught I’ll say it was all my idea and you had nothing to do with it.”

“That much is true.”

Alan could be a stubborn one for his age but Gordon could see he was finally bringing him around as they neared their stop on the school bus. Alan bit his lip and finally said, “Alright, I’ll keep watch. But that’s only as much as I’ll do.”

“You’re a star,” Gordon grinned. Alan shuddered.

They arrived home and were greeted by their mum. As planned, Gordon slipped away to get the necessary items while Alan distracted her with the events of his day. The trickiest part was the stepladder which was nearly as tall as he was, but once he’d smuggled that successfully upstairs he gave Alan a thumbs up so he could make his excuses to mum and ran upstairs to join him.

The Tracy household was spread over three floors- the kitchen, living and dining room, study, a downstairs toilet and shower were all on the ground floor; their parents’, Scott’s, Alan’s and Gordon’s bedrooms along with another bathroom were on the first floor; and the second floor was divided into Virgil’s and John’s bedrooms. It was the small second floor landing to the two doors where they stood now, Alan bouncing up and down on his heels fretfully, his back turned to whatever it was Gordon was doing and praying mum wouldn’t come upstairs- tricking her like that had felt twice as bad as he imagined being caught by dad would.

For his part Gordon worked slowly but delicately. Balance was key here. After much careful work he climbed off the stepladder, gathered it up and hissed at Alan to get moving. One quick mum distraction later and the stepladder was back and the evidence was gone.

It was that rare day of the week when the three eldest brothers all arrived home together (usually one of them had extra credit classes) and while John sped straight upstairs to do his homework, Scott and Virgil swung by the kitchen to say hi to mum and steal snacks (“Don’t ruin your dinner, boys!”). Scott dived into his room on the first floor and Virgil continued up to the second floor.

He didn’t notice his door was cracked slightly open. He didn’t notice the plastic bowl perfectly balanced on top of the door. He didn’t notice that as the door swung open the bowl overbalanced, at least not until it hit him on the head and engulfed him in a white cloud. He stood in shock for a second as the flour settled and he let out a strangled yell.

He wasn’t heard by mum or the two youngest downstairs, but John and Scott both came running out of their rooms. Both of them went wide eyed at Virgil’s predicament.

“Woah,” Scott muttered.

“I’m not gonna kill him,” Virgil seethed. “But I will make him wish he hadn’t done that.”

“A strange kindness,” John remarked.

“We got him to stop once before, we’ll just do it again,” Scott suggested. Virgil turned to look at him and a plume of flour cascaded from his brown hair to the floor. His skin burned red with embarrassment under the white powder and Scott couldn’t resist. “Hold there.”

He took his phone out to take a picture but Virgil dived at him. “Don’t you dare!”

“Come on John, hold him still while I get the picture!”

“No chance!” John retreated to his room, scared his perfect quiff would get messed up. Scott finally conceded.

“Fine- look! I’m putting the phone away! Come on, I’ll help you clean up.”

Luckily for Gordon, Virgil didn’t get the opportunity to get his hands on him that night, or the next day for that matter...

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I accidentally gave Virgil some anger issues as an 11 year old! I'm sorry Virgil!!!


	3. Going Out With A Bang

Forgotten by the boys in their antics, Lucille chivvied them all along when they got home the next day as they were going out to dinner with Grandma Tracy, who was visiting for the next few nights.

“Grandma!” Alan squealed excitedly when they were reminded.

“All of you get to your homework immediately,” Lucille waved them all upstairs.

“I didn’t get any homework today, can I go in the pool instead?” Gordon asked happily.

“No, you can get the washing in and put the next load out,” his mum said, handing him the basket and pushing him towards the back door. Gordon huffed but set to. Chores were dull to him- time spent outside which he could be spending in the pool.

It was mainly mum and dad’s shirts, trousers, work uniform, a dress; Gordon cringed as he unpegged a bra and a load of underwear. He heaved one dry basket back inside and grabbed the wet basket out. This was mostly the boys' underwear and socks. Gordon mused to himself as he pegged up a pair of Scott’s Calvin Klein boxers- he’d never thought of a way to get back at Scott and now he knew Virgil was definitely going to be coming after him (the looks he’d got over dinner last night were pure malice), the only reason he was holding back was that he was waiting for mum and dad to be out of the house.

Gordon sighed at his fate when an idea hit him. It wouldn’t make his predicament any better (very certainly it would make it worse) but at least he would go out of this world with a bang. If he could pull it off.

Finishing the laundry he hurried back to the house and routed through the dry basket. He found what he was looking for- a pair of mum’s knickers. Red satin with frills and Gordon knew just where to put them if he got the right opportunity.

He stuffed the knickers quickly in his trouser pocket and was greeted in the kitchen by his mum calling at him, “Bath, now!” He happily obeyed until he saw Scott also carrying Alan to the bathroom.

“Come on Squid, bath time!” Scott called merrily. There was a glint in his eye that Gordon didn’t trust and he reluctantly followed them into the bathroom. Scott dunked Alan in the tub first and knelt down next to it. Gordon sank into the tub next to him, his shoulders hunched. He was used to sharing the bath with Alan since they were little, though of course he always prefered to have free reign. Scott chuckled at Gordon curled in on himself. “Don’t worry Squid, I’m not going to do anything tonight.”

Alan stopped his splashing to listen. Gordon looked up at him hesitantly. “You’re not?”

“No, the ball is in Virgil’s field, remember?” Gordon relaxed a bit at this, but that didn’t stop Scott from turning the shower head on him and blasting him with cold water. “All’s fair in love and war Gords!” he laughed as Gordon yelped and tried to escape the spray.

“Are you boys nearly finished? I’m waiting to get in the shower,” the gruff voice of their dad called through the door.

“Just finishing now!” Scott gave Gordon one final blast before letting the boys out, helping Alan with his hair while Gordon wrapped his ginger hair into a towel turban. He’d started to feel less guilty about what he was about to do.

He returned to his room and heard Jeff say to Scott, “I’ll be picking up Grandma from the airport so I’ll be quick.”

“I’ll have my shower downstairs then,” Scott replied before shuffling off.

This was perfect- dad in the shower, Scott downstairs, everyone else getting ready. Gordon grabbed the knickers out of his trouser pocket and tip-toed down the hall to Scott’s room. There he pulled open the top bedside drawer, pulled out all of the pairs of pants he could find and replaced them with the single pair of knickers. With his bundle of underpants he returned swiftly to his room, getting ready himself.

*

Scott returned from his shower with a towel wrapped around his waist, humming lightly. He dropped the towel on his bedroom floor, put on some deodorant and reached into his drawers for a clean pair of pants, but his hand grasped on thin air. He stopped humming instantly. All of his underpants were missing and in their place was a single pair of red frilly knickers. The implications were clear.

His immediate thought sent him running to his wash basket but his mum had emptied that earlier that day and his stuff was still drying on the line.

He ran through his options. He could just put his trousers on without pants, but he knew from experience that would be ridiculously uncomfortable. He could wear sweatpants- no, his dad would definitely question why he thought it was OK to wear them to a fancy dinner. He could march down the hall and confront Gordon (because let’s face it, who else could it have been?) and get his pants back that instant. That definitely had merit to it.

“Scott?” His mum knocked on his door and he nearly jumped out of his skin (especially as he wasn’t wearing anything). “Are you nearly ready?”

“Getting dressed now,” he blushed furiously.

“OK, we’re just waiting on you.”

Damn! Scott gritted his teeth. He didn’t really have any choice. He pulled them on, quickly followed by his trousers and rest of his clothes and did his best to forget about it.

This turned out to be quite difficult. Sitting still in the car on the way to the restaurant had been fine, but when he’d walked into the restaurant and greeted their Grandma cheerfully with the rest he had to acknowledge that the knickers were tighter than what he was used to. Worse, the combination of the tightness and the silky material were doing things to his 17 year old body which Gordon’s 9 year old mind could not truly appreciate. The unintentional evil preyed on Scott’s mind.

Scott shifted uncomfortably in his seat and Jeff looked over at his boy who was completely red in the face. “You alright son? Not feeling ill are you?”

“Yeah, just...” Scott didn’t finish his sentence.

“Ants in your pants?” Gordon asked, unable to resist the dig.

Scott glared and muttered, “My pants are fine, thank you.”

Grandma glanced between the two of them, though they had both already gone back to their meal.

Two and a half agonising hours later they finally got back home with Grandma in tow. Scott made a beeline for Gordon’s room and retrieved his stolen underwear. He couldn’t wait any longer for Virgil to get his own back on Gordon; this he had to address himself.

*

On Thursday evening, all it took Scott was a few seconds in Gordon’s room with a sharpie and the deed was done.

Gordon made straight for the pool after dinner, keen to show off his butterfly stroke to Grandma. He had never more been like a fish in the water. The problem came when he got out of the water, took off his goggles and the sharpie that had been around the rubber seal of his goggles stayed around his eyes.

Jeff was livid, but no one would own up to it. Lucille did her best to clean the pen off, though it being sharpie it faded but refused to completely budge so Gordon was left with greyish circles around his eyes. She had suggested that some make up would conceal it better for school the next day but Gordon declined- if nothing else it was a story to tell.

Grandma Tracy on the other hand had her own suspicions. While Scott helped her in the kitchen making hot cocoa for everyone she asked casually “Is everything alright between you and Gordon dear?”

Scott looked up in alarm, trying to cover his guilty face. “Yeah, everything’s fine. Why?”

“It’s just I noticed a bit of tension between you two at the restaurant yesterday.” Scott shuffled his feet so she continued. “It wouldn’t have anything to do with the goggles incident, would it?”

Scott look at the floor and muttered, “It’s nothing worse than what he dished out.”

“Oh Scott,” Grandma smiled kindly. “You have to remember he’s only a boy, nearly half your age. He’s still learning and who else is he going to learn from but you?” She paused and Scott was silent. “You’ll both get there eventually. Come on.”

Quite where “there” was, Scott wasn’t sure. They re-joined the rest of the family and as they all drifted up to bed Scott stopped Gordon in the hallway, muttered, “Sorry”, and shut himself up in his room. Gordon stared; he hadn’t worked out if it had been Scott or Virgil who had done his goggles, so what had caused the change of heart?

*

Gordon had hoped that enough water had passed under the bridge since Grandma had arrived to cause Virgil to forget the flour over his door, but on Sunday when they were returning to the airport, the car with Jeff, Lucille and Grandma had barely turned the corner at the end of their suburban road before Virgil had Gordon by the scuff of his shirt and was leading him back inside. This time Scott held his wrists (obviously he hadn’t felt sorry enough to not help the middle child discipline their younger brother) while Virgil tickled him senseless. Virgil didn’t bother listening to Gordon’s screamed pleas and continued mercilessly, and after what felt like a lifetime but in reality was only ten minutes they finally let up, leaving Gordon giggling uncontrollably in the foetal position.

It was a while before Gordon moved again; he staggered from the sofa to upstairs where Alan was playing video games on his TV. He curled up tightly at the foot of his bed and Alan’s eyes flicked to him from his game.

“You knew it was coming,” he said sagely in his cute voice.

“Shut up,” Gordon muttered weakly. The fact he’d known it was coming didn’t make it any easier.

“Now it’s done you can forget about it.”

Gordon bit his lip. True, he could forget about it. On the other hand neither of them would ever expect him to recover from his punishment quickly. He had the element of surprise on his side.

Peeking out of the window into the garden, he saw his three elder brothers lounging on deckchairs by the pool, reading or drawing, their backs to them. “I’ve got a plan,” he declared.

Alan groaned. “Nooo, Goooord! Come on!”

“No, listen to me-” Gordon explained his plan and in spite of himself Alan’s eyes went wide and he squeaked in excitement. “So you see? It’s not so much revenge as it is a bit of fun.”

Alan nodded enthusiastically and Gordon set to work. He’d now had plenty of experience sneaking around the house (just as well because Alan was still giggling too much to act as any kind of look out) and returned to the upstairs bathroom with three buckets, one filled with ingredients. Inspired by Saturday morning kids TV, he’d found the recipe online the first time he’d looked for pranks and he’d been dying to try it out. With a bit of stirring and a splash of green food colouring for added effect he divided the concoction between two of the buckets. On to the second part of his plan.

He had grabbed a load of balloons left over from Alan’s birthday party last month, instructed Alan on how to hold them under the tap, and soon the third bucket was filled with bulging water balloons.

Now came the tricky part of the execution. They moved outside (Gordon constantly having to shush Alan who was still snickering like crazy), Gordon set the bucket of balloons down on the grass and they crept up behind their brothers. They were much too engaged to notice them. With a mouthed countdown, Gordon and Alan tipped the buckets of bright green slime over Scott and Virgil’s heads.

They both jumped up and screamed in shock, but Gordon and Alan didn’t hang around to look- they bolted the few steps back to the bucket and started pelting them with the water balloons. Unfortunately, Alan’s first throw missed and hit John right in the face when he turned around to see what was going on, so soon all three of their elder brothers were advancing on them through the storm of the balloons (John’s well maintained quiff plastered to his forehead and Scott and Virgil looking like alien slime monsters).

“LEG IT!” Gordon screamed and he and Alan ran in opposite directions. Virgil grabbed the bucket of balloons and was running after Alan, pelting him as he went, John had gone for the garden hose and was drenching anyone that came within his reach, and after two circuits around the pool Scott caught Gordon, pulling him into a gungy embrace.

“Think this is funny, do you?” Scott grinned menacingly, rubbing the green slime through Gordon’s hair. They were all of them laughing like maniacs, having too much fun.

“BOYS!”

The roar down the garden caused all of their hearts to stop. At the back door Jeff stood with his arms crossed, his face a picture of fury. Slowly, his five sons fell into line in front of him and the wheels in his head turned as he assessed each of them in turn.

“John, Alan; you will clean up the mess made in the garden.” John began to say something but was silenced immediately. “Scott, Virgil, Gordon; go inside and shower. Any mess you leave behind in the house you will clean up yourselves. You are all grounded.”

None of them dared ask how long they were grounded for, and with down cast eyes they all set about their tasks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh Gordon, you're so mean!
> 
> There's going to be one last chapter after this to round it up :3


	4. Epilogue

Two weeks passed and it seemed that their final fight in the garden (and getting caught and punished for it) had burned out the prank war that had raged between them. By the end of that fortnight, Jeff -under Lucille’s pity that the boys had only been having a bit of fun- seemed to ease up slightly as he picked up the boys from their schools and college and took them all for ice cream. His boys all acted a lot calmer, laughing and joking with each other at the parlour.

After they got home, the boys were all sent to their respective rooms to get their homework done, but there was a nasty surprise lying in wait.

Scott had made to chuck his book bag on his bed, but he jumped a foot in the air when he spotted the chicken sat on his bed. A living, clucking chicken. The chicken spun its head round to look at him as if he was the one that was out of place in the room, but seemed otherwise unfazed. Scott on the other hand was having a silent freak out. He would deal with his questions of how had it got there later, right now the important thing was getting rid of it.

Thankfully it seemed fairly docile as he picked it up in his hands, clamping its wings firmly to its sides. He’d barely gone a few steps down the hallway when Gordon stepped out of his room holding another chicken.

“You!” Scott hissed, well aware dad was in his room between them. “You did this!”

“No! It was on my bed, I don’t know how it got there,” Gordon hissed back, and from the look of terror on his face Scott could see he wasn’t lying.

Virgil’s head poked around the top of the stairs to his landing and he went wide-eyed when he saw them both there. He crept cat-like down the stairs to join them, bearing a chicken of his own. “What is going on here? It’s made a mess on my bed!” he whispered.

Alan bounced out of his room, full of glee, but came up short when he saw his three brothers holding the chickens. His mouth dropped.

“Don’t tell me you had something to do with this Alan?” Virgil whispered.

“No, but there’s a little baby chick sat on my pillow! It’s so fluffy and cute, can I keep it?” Alan said, seeming fit to burst.

“No!” Scott hissed, his mind already forming a plan. “My car. Put them all in the back of my car, and I’ll drive out and drop them off somewhere. Alan, go get the chick.”

Together, the four of them made it down to the garage and deposited the chickens into the back seat of Scott’s car (Alan held back to make a comfy cardboard box for his chick’s journey). Scott made some excuse to their mum about leaving his wallet behind at the ice cream parlour in order to be allowed out despite still being grounded. As he was about to go, Alan stopped him.

“What about John? What if he got left a chicken too?”

They all stopped. They’d all been too panicked to consider John. Virgil ran back upstairs and knocked on his door.

“Yes?” John answered the door calmly, a smile playing across his lips that told Virgil all he needed to know.

“You!” he said in disbelief, and John closed the door in a satisfied way.

Virgil drifted dazed back down to the garage and none of the others quite believed him when he explained this was probably John’s retaliation for them getting him grounded. This set the precedent in years to come of not pranking John because he would come back at them like a ton of bricks, blowing them all out of the water. And not even Gordon -who went on to prank them all again in later years- would ever work out where John had acquired the chickens from.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a few more ideas for other Thunderbirds fanfics which I will get done in due time (along with the work I actually need to be writing!)
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this little series!


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